Only You Can Prevent Wildfires
by Floppy Katana
Summary: When the Ranger Gathering is interrupted by an unwelcome surprise, Will, Halt, and an assortment of other characters must save Araluen from an outside threat before it is too late.
1. Prologue

**AN: Welcome to our story. We don't own Rangers Apprentice. Please don't sue us; we don't have any money. This is a group story written by three people. We hope you enjoy it and remember to review.**

Prologue

Crowley shuffled through the papers on his desk, casting several unlucky sheets to the stone floor in his tower office. As he bent down to pick them up, he noticed a twinge in his back. "Oh, I'm getting too old for this." He said, groaning. As his hands moved to his back to rub his sore backbone, he moved to a chair by his open window. He looked out at the marvelous grounds of Araluen, talking to himself. "Now, where did that stupid scroll go?"

He sighed and stood up again to look for his document. He prowled around his office for the next hour to no avail. Not to denounce Crowley's searching skills, but there were a multitude of hidden niches that littered the room in the form of false bottoms, hidden closet floorboards, and secret compartments in his desk. However, for the life of him, he could not find the one sheaf of paper he needed most of all.

Crowley was just about to collapse onto the window chair again, thinking about his younger days, as he heard a knock at his door.

"Who is it?" He yelled, attempting to jam the files into some semblance of order. He considered putting them all in a hidden compartment to make his office look clean, but then realized that would only make things harder to find. Upset, he went for the door, hoping that it was someone that wouldn't judge him to badly for the mess. Grudgingly, he opened the door.

There stood Lady Pauline, dressed in her white courier gown. They embraced, then separated fondly.

"Lady Pauline, how great it is to see you! I haven't seen hide nor hair of you since the good old days at Redmont."

Her fair face lit up as she smiled then looked around his office curiously. Papers lay crumpled on the floor, desk, and chairs, weakly fluttering in the breeze from the window. "I see you're completely overwhelmed by paperwork."

"Oh, yes, milady. I've just been looking for the Gathering papers for the past couple of hours. I just can't remember where I put it. You know, there are so many secret places in this room I couldn't hope to know them all."

"Hmmm… a Gathering paper… that sounds important. I guess we need to find it." Crowley was taken aback.

"Did you come here just to see me or was there something else?" Pauline looked at him knowingly.

"There was something else…" Pauline said mysteriously. "Crowley, you need to retire."

Crowley stepped back in shock. "Pauline…?"

"You've never liked these dank castles. And not to mention, I could hear your back cracking from all the way down the hall!"

Crowley quickly came up from his crouching position and unfolded his back as he stood up. He groaned as if to prove her point. Weakly, he said, "Well, you do have a point there…"

Quickly, he changed the conversation to the newest potted plant he had acquired as a gift in the last Ranger Gathering. He moved over to the plant, describing the vibrant color of its flowers. Pauline was not buying it.

"Crowley, you don't even like plants! Why do you even have… oh…"

Pauline was struck with inspiration as she moved over to the plant on his desk. She carefully lifted the pot up from its dish and raised it into the air. She peered through the hole in the bottom and scowled.

"Crowley, you old draft horse, it's in here!" Crowley creaked his way across the room to his desk, papers flying in his wake. Pauline held the pot as Crowley used his small fingers to pull the paper out of the false bottom.

Pauline set the plant down on its dish and followed Crowley, who walked to the front of his desk. He swiped with his forearm, clearing a place for him to lie the paper down. Lady Pauline set two inkwells on either end as paperweights and blew a fine layer of dust off of the parchment.

"Crowley, is this it?"

"No," he said incredulously as he scanned the paper. "I don't believe my eyes! This was my apprentice graduation letter from the Corps!"

Pauline cupped her forehead with her hand and sighed. It had been close. Quickly, she pulled herself together and concentrated on her primary mission. However, Crowley spoke first.

"Pauline, while we rest, would you like something to drink?" Pauline turned back to him, saying,

"No, thank you. But I would like to talk about the next Ranger Gathering."

"What about it?" He asked, feeling she was up to something.

"I also came to deliver this year's oakleaves. May I see yours?"

"Yes…?"

He fumbled around his neck for the necklace, then unclasped it and gave it to her. The metal itself, Pauline thought, was well cared for and untarnished, but was chipped and cracked from the many years he spent in the wilds. She then investigated the chain. It was unflawed, except for the small ring that kept the oakleaf pendant on. In Crowley's last fight, a knife had nicked it and cut part of it. The crack had expanded and now threatened to break altogether. Pauline frowned at it.

"Crowley, it's breaking. It won't last another month."

Crowley sensed the symbolism and angered slightly. "I'm not done here!" He responded darkly. Pauline was ready for another blow, however.

"Well, you will be in four weeks."

Crowley stood up, pain racing along his spinal cord to his brain. "Pauline! You can't do this!"

In response Pauline lifted an eyebrow, a skill she had learned from Halt. "I can, indirectly." Shifting her position closer to Crowley, she gave her case.

"Crowley, I've been your friend for many, many years. I have never doubted you. But have you ever doubted me?" I am making a decision for you, one that will undoubtedly help you and the Ranger Corps in the long term. Being Commandant is a very stressful occupation.

"You've held this position for years and years. You've led the Ranger Corps through so many impossible situations. You may not know it, but you are starting to lose your agility, your acuteness. Not to be demeaning," she said, responding to the angry look on his features. "You are still better in those categories than most others in our world, but you have served for many, many years as one of the best Rangers the world has ever seen. Now it is time for you to relax. Plus, I'm not sure if I could suppress Gilan's happiness. He would be an excellent Commandant. And also, I've taken the liberty to arrange your retirement party, which will be held at the Ranger Gathering in four weeks."

"Pauline… Halt put you up to this, didn't he?" She ignored him.

"Additionally, I have arranged another, less-strenuous job for you that will still benefit the Rangers."

Crowley was utterly conflicted. "Milady, I don't know what to say."

"A thank you would be nice." She responded.

"Thank you, milady."

She turned to leave then remembered the necklace she still held. She put the necklace back over his head, eyes lingering over the broken ring. And as quickly as a Ranger horse she was gone, leaving him feeling very stupid.

 **AN: CAUTION! THIS FANFICTION HAS BEEN BOOBY-TRAPPED SO UNLESS YOU REVIEW YOU WILL BE TURNED INTO A GIANT PLATYPUS. (Please review.)**


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: Here is the second chapter of our story. Again, we do not own Ranger's Apprentice. We hope you enjoy the second publication but first chapter of our Ranger's Apprentice story!**

Chapter One: The Fall of Leander

One week later

Dacton Fief

The Ranger Leander strode through the forest, limping slightly. His leg still ailed him even though he had received the wound many years ago. The wound itself had forced him to retire from the Ranger Corps and take up his gold oakleaf. He, however, still was an active member of the Corps and helped out as a retiree in examinations at the Gatherings. But now, instead of running after bandits and vagabonds he tended to take strolls through the calm forests of his former fief, Dacton. He enjoyed catching fish in the rivers that he had grown to love.

As Leander walked, he slowly become aware of a slight patter of footsteps behind him. Not knowing if his follower was friend or foe he glanced back behind him discreetly when he went along a bend in the tail. All he was able to catch though was a wisp of a grey cloak. Finally becoming exasperated, he abandoned his Ranger training and whipped around to see who was following him. Seeing only an empty trail he relaxed and was about to turn around when a knife was pressed to his back. A thick, rough, menacing voice whispered in his ear, "Turn around and this knife will go through you." Leander froze, stiffening in fear. "Now tell me, what is the size of King Duncan's standing army." Said the man.

"I would never betray my king," Leander said, trying to sound more confident than he was.

"I was afraid you would say that," the man said, "But I know I'll never get information from you. Oh, how unfortunate. At least I can tell Lord Pierre that I tried to get information from you before I killed you."

And with that the man plunged the dagger into Leander's back. Leander yelped and sunk to his knees. The man stabbed him again several times in the side, drawing spurts of angry crimson blood with each lunge. Wheezing, Leander fell to the ground desperately trying to get a look at the man who had attacked him but his efforts were all for naught. Leander saw his vision start to go dark as he slowly slipped from life.

Three weeks later

Thorntree Forest

They had to be close now. Halt and Will walked their horses along the path. The forest seemed abandoned, but they knew better. No Ranger Gathering would be left unguarded.

A tree rustled, and both Halt's and Will's eyes flickered to the spot. "Do you see him?" Halt murmured. "It's Gilan."

Will squinted, scanning the foliage. "To the right of the maple tree?"

"Yes." The Ranger and his apprentice both kept their voices soft, barely audible; that way, the guard would be unaware that he had been spotted. "Now, you remember my plan."

Will nodded imperceptibly. Then, in a marvelous feat of overblown acting, he looked at Halt and said with tremendous enthusiasm: "Please, may I go on ahead? I'm just so excited to see everyone again!" It was fortunate that his back was to the guard, so the hidden Ranger couldn't see the conspiratorial grin on Will's face.

"Sure," Halt grunted. "But you'd better have your tent sent up and dinner cooking by the time I get there." Will's grin broadened; Halt was glad the guard couldn't see that, or he would know something was afoot. It was highly unprofessional, in Halt's opinion, to sit there grinning like a loon as you undertake a stealth mission.

"Thank you!" Will exclaimed, and without further ado, he galloped down the path.

Halt took one more covert look at the guard, who was nearly, but not entirely, hidden in the foliage. Above him, the maple branches stretched, providing cover from above. And, Halt thought, a hiding place for sneaky apprentices.

When he was a kilometer past the guard, Will brought Tug to a stop, dismounted, and led the horse into the forest a few yards off the trail. He wouldn't be spotted there, and Will could continue with his plan.

He set off back along the trail, retracing his steps back until he could almost see the guard. The Ranger's back was turned; he was more interested in traffic coming towards the Gathering than traffic leaving it. Will used this to his advantage; he slipped into the woods with hardly a sound. He pulled himself into the branches of an oak tree, one that adjoined the maple Gilan was seated under. Slowly, so as not to rustle any branches, Will crawled from the oak into the maple, inching his way forward until he was right above Gilan.

Will perched in the tree for a moment, savoring the glory of sneaking up on one of the Ranger Corps' most talented members. But eventually Gilan would look up; so he knew he couldn't hesitate any longer.

Will dropped from the tree, landing in front of Gilan with a crash. Gilan stared at him in disbelief, an arrow already knocked on his bowstring in alarm. "How did you do that?"

Will grinned. "You have to look up."

 **AN: Thank you for reading! We hope that you will review so that we can know what to work on to make the following chapters better. No platypi this time. :)**

 **(Well, maybe...)**


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: Thanks to TheRanger'sDaughter** **,** **Platyperson, and Guest for reviewing and remember we don't own anything.**

Chapter Two: The Gathering Guards

Gilan gave Will a big bear hug as Halt walked out of the bushes on the other side of the trail. "Awww, you got me!" Gilan said. "I would walk you back to the camp, but I have to keep guard."

"That's fine, Gilan," Halt said. "Just don't let anyone else trick you like that."

"Will do." Will and Halt turned to leave, but whirled around when Gilan called them back. "Someone's coming. Conceal yourselves!"

The two Rangers and the apprentice shrouded themselves in their cloaks and faded into the underbrush, as they had practiced for years.

Crowley and Cropper trotted forward, slowing to a walk. Cropper lowered his ears and snorted.

"Cropper, where?" Crowley asked. Cropper recognized his master's command and nickered softly. He turned his head to the right, under the maple.

Crowley kept his eyes in a constant sweep, not only looking at the place Cropper had indicated but all around. It took a moment, but eventually he saw the gray-green woolen corner of a ranger cloak.

"Come out, I can see you." Crowley dismounted, patting Cropper, and walked stealthily to the place he had discerned the cloak. As he walked closer he could see three human-shaped lumps under the cloaks. Pushing an overhanging branch out of the way, Crowley crouched down, cracking his back terribly. He groaned and tried to stretch it out. He reached his hand out to the nearest cloak and lifted it up.

"Aaargh!" He yelled. It was full of rocks! He checked the other two to the same result, then looked up. Halt, Will, and Gilan sat perched in the maple tree, casually leaning against its large branches. Crowley grinned, even though he was disappointed with his gullibility. He passed up the cloaks then climbed up himself.

Shaking hands with everyone, he said, "how are ye faring?"

There was a chorus of responses. "And you," Will asked.

"Pauline's making me retire." At the mention of her name, Halt raised his eyebrow. Fortunately, he had already fastened his cloak and lowered the cowl so no one saw his move.

Halt thumped Crowley on the back, happy his friend had finally stepped down. He knew how much stress had been placed on his shoulders by being Commandant and was glad he could finally relax. Crowley's worried voice brought him out of his disguised half-slumber.

"I have some bad news. Leander has stopped reporting, he usually sends a letter once a week. So have Samdash, Egon, and Merron. They are all consecutive feifs… something is afoot."

 **AN: Thanks for reading and remember to review.**


	4. Chapter 3

**AN: We do not own Ranger's Apprentice; we are just doing this for fun. Here goes the next chapter in our story. Don't forget to review. Any input you can give us will be greatly appreciated!**

Chapter Three: Assessments

Will was scared. He looked at Halt, aloof as ever, and tapped Tug's sides to inch closer to him and Abelard. The looming trees spread their hand-like branches over the path, obscuring the sun and casting dark shadows on the ground. Finally, the bushes cleared and the Gathering ground was exposed.

Around sixty Rangers, apprentices, and retirees sat gathered around a large central campfire. Will could smell the sizzling of a dozen spitted rabbits, the meaty flavor of pheasant, and the hearty sinew of a freshly-killed deer. The Rangers used their special spices to arouse enticing aromas which tempted Will's nostrils. Many Rangers helped themselves to the kafay shipped specially from Arrida. Several of the Rangers bellowed greetings to Halt and Crowley, and several other apprentices waved to Will.

Laughter emanated from the campfire, mingled with the voices of a normally socially reserved group finally able to let it out. Stories were exchanged and news spread around the circle like wildfire. Plates were heaped with boiled potatoes and slabs of deer meat, accompanied by tender greens and hearty gravy. Jugs of kafay, kafay, and more kafay were passed around for everyone to drink. Will tore his eyes away from the party he so wished to join to follow Halt.

Halt and Will set up their two-man tent and untacked their horses, letting them graze freely. Will watched Tug and Abelard trot up to their equine friends as Halt rifled through his bags to find his yearly report for the Commandant.

When he finally emerged, Will eagerly strung his longbow for the archery assessment. His black shafted arrows over his shoulder, he ran lightly to the archery range. The other apprentices were already gathered around the Ranger Alun, their observer.

Alun had them line up in front of the wooden targets, carved roughly out of soft pine to the shape of a human. A dot marked the heart, their target. Out of the blue, he yelled, "shoot!"

Will, his bow ready, reached for an arrow and shot his target, slightly to the right of the heart. The three other apprentices in his year fumbled to string their bows, then shot their respective targets. Their shots were all close to Will's distance from the center.

Alun chuckled under his cowl. "Well, Will gets points for being prepared! But that is not all we're testing. Walk with me." He beckoned for them to follow. They walked behind him for two hundred meters to the target line. Since Will had shot from the far left, he was first. Alun awarded him a nine. The other apprentices received eights.

Next, they retrieved their arrows and did complicated shots from strange positions. For one, they had to climb into a tree, shoot one arrow, then shoot two more while falling. Then they would run and shoot the final target while running away from it. Alun also had an hourglass filled with a few seconds' worth of sand, which he used to test speed-shooting. After this, he had them shoot for precision at the one hundred meters mark. They shot one arrow each, all easily burying their broadheads in their respective black dots. Alun smiled under his cowl.

"Now for something a little harder." He said, grinning to himself. Will and the other apprentices looked frightened, scared he might ask them to do something beyond their abilities. Alun broke the silence, saying, "You will now split the arrows down the shafts from the two hundred meters mark. You may start when ready."

The boys walked over to the two hundred meters mark grimly. Once at the line, Will sighted the shot, thinking about the conditions he was shooting under. He had determined from his previous shots that there was a slight north-east blowing wind. He selected an arrow, the sharpest he had, and knocked it to the string. Will grasped the bowstring with his right hand and slowly brought it to full draw. He sighted his target, then readjusted because of the gust of wind. Now the target was all he saw, the arrow sticking out of the heart, swaying lightly in the wind. He closed his eyes calmly, back straining against the force of the bow, then opened them unhurriedly. When he sensed the time was right, the variables all in place, he carefully let go of the string.

As if in slow motion, the party watched Will's arrow streak through the sky. Its fletchings set the shaft in a spiral motion, spinning the broadhead closer and closer to the target. Will could see, from his vantage point, a slight archer's paradox occurring in the arrow. But the sheer force of Will's longbow brought the arrow surging through the air without further hinderance. From the shooting line, they heard a sickening crack as the first arrow split in two halves.

There was no time for celebration, however, as the other apprentices had shot their arrows, too. Two arrows caught the heart mark but not the shaft, and one arrow came in too high but clipped the first arrow on the top.

After the archery assessment, Alun led them through their cartography assessment. For this, the apprentices had to draw in the fief names and major rivers of Araluen, not to mention the surrounding countries and seas.

Alun gave them their strategic assessments then started the knife skills examination. To pass this assessment, they had to be able to perform the double knife defense and have excellent throwing skills. Much like the archery test, they were lined up in front of a much closer row of targets. They each had their saxe and two throwing knives. They had to perform overhand, underhand, and side throwing to pass. Fortunately, their intensive Ranger training had prepared them for all the techniques Alun threw at them.

They had their hidden movement, silent walking, and horseback riding assessments, which were all very tiring, so when Alun finally called a halt, they were very happy. They unsaddled their ponies and joined the campfire.

 **AN: We hope you liked the chapter. Next chapter will be the initiating event of the main plot and introduction of our OC. Don't forget to review!**

 **Happy reading!**


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: We don't own anything. Please review.**

Chapter Four: The Spark

Hearty, slightly tipsy singing rose from the campfire. The graduating apprentices, whose families were allowed to attend, sat on felled logs that doubled as benches with their family members.

Martin Farrier, one of these apprentices, sat with his parents and sister Aya. His family had been blindfolded on the trip, and were still adjusting to the bright lights and loud noises of the campfire. Aya sat holding her brother's hand; he was as nervous as a pig going to a slaughterhouse.

"Don't worry, Martin. Of course they're going to promote you." Aya said, in a comforting tone. Her kind words did little for Martin's nerves.

"What if I'm assigned a fief so far from home I can never see you again? What if they give me a fief I can't handle? I can't do this, Aya." He said miserably.

"The Rangers have been doing this for years. You can bet they'll assign you a fief suitable for your skill level. Don't you mope around like a sad puppy." Aya responded fiercely.

The simile brought Martin out of his misery. "Alright." He responded glumly.

Across the campfire Crowley helped himself to a pheasant wing and made his way over to the stand he had set up. He waved his hands and yelled for silence.

"My Rangers, we gather today to celebrate the year's work, promote apprentices, and share news. After Gilan's mastery of Whitby Fief, one of the most vagabond-filled places in the country, I'd like to personally thank him… for that, and for offering to replace me as Commandant."

This was news to most of the crowd, and they cheered like crazy. Crowley continued.

"Yes, my friends, I am retiring from Commandant. But not the Ranger Corps. I will be assisting Young Bob in Redmont Fief with the Ranger horse farm there."

The crowd bellowed its agreement.

"Now for news…" Crowley stared into space for a minute, before starting. "Leander, Samdash, Egon, and Merron have stopped reporting. I have yet to hear more on the matter. It may mean something terrible is going, I'm afraid. But now for a nicer note. Promotions."

Everyone cheered, except for the stone-faced apprentices, who sat by their masters.

"Henry, please step forward." Crowley said. Henry's master cuffed him on the back and smiled as Henry walked up to the podium. Henry's shaking steps seemed to even out as he got closer to Crowley. He stopped, straight-backed, in front of Crowley.

"I award Henry Darkfoot his silver oakleaf. I give you… Ranger Darkfoot of Aspienne Fief!" Henry bowed his head and allowed Crowley to clasp the necklace in the back. With a few encouraging words and a pat on the back, Crowley sent him off to his cheering family. After surveying the celebrations for a minute, he called the next apprentice.

"Martin Farrier, please step forth." Aya squeezed his hand and let go as Martin walked, pale, to the stand. With every breath he took, his body rattled with fear. As Crowley's platform got closer and closer, Martin became acutely aware of the scent of… smoke? That wasn't possible! The wind was blowing northeast steadily. It couldn't possibly be from the campfire… _No matter_ , he thought.

Martin crossed the final steps to the podium and stopped. He swung his head around, searching the forest for any type of disturbance.

All the Rangers recoiled as the screams of men and horses emanated from the forest. Rough flashes of fiery light shot abound the trees, spreading to the northeast.

"Fire!" Martin screamed.

There was chaos. The Rangers ran as fast as they could towards their horses. But they were in the heart of the fire, so the Rangers were running straight into the flames. Will whistled for Tug, relieved as he saw the shaggy pony coming towards him. There was not time for saddles nor bridles nor supplies of any kind. Will leapt onto Tug's barrel-belly and swung back towards the fire to help the others.

Aya whirled around, looking for the quickest path out. The Rangers were running in all different directions, trying to save horses, weapons, and equipment; and to go running into the woods alone would probably result in her getting lost or crisped to a cinder.

Her brother had sprinted away towards the fire, probably going back for his horse. Her parents had disappeared. _They could be in the fire!_ That thought left Aya no choice but to sprint towards the flames.

Embers blew around her and sweat trickled down her back. A blackened branch crashed to the ground in front of her and she hurdled it, never breaking stride.

She crashed through a final wall of brambles and found herself back in the camp. It was chaos. The Rangers' tents were burning; the oily waterproofing on the canvas only served to feed the flames. Trees all around the camp looked like logs in a fireplace, teetering at awful angles and covered in angry flames.

Shadows ran through the smoke in front of her. It was hard to see, but it didn't look like they were wearing Ranger cloaks. Aya bent down, coughing, to get below the smoke.

Her foot knocked into a branch and she slid it out of the way. When it moved, she saw that it was a longbow, abandoned by its owner. A quiver lay a few feet away.

The shadows in the smoke moved about, and Aya was concerned. They definitely didn't look like Rangers; what's more, they weren't acting like them. They stood in the middle of the fire, not running, not coughing, just waiting.

A Ranger ran past them, not looking at the shadows by his side. That meant he was unprepared when one of the shadowy figures grabbed him from behind. The Ranger fought, but swiftly the second shadow moved up behind him and swung a fist at the back of the Ranger's head. The Ranger collapsed, unconscious, and the shadows dragged him out of view.

Aya picked up the bow and nocked an arrow to the string. She'd fired bows before, when hunting around her family's farm. But when she tried to pull this one back, it didn't give an inch. With all her strength, she managed to bend it about one-quarter draw, but couldn't hold it.

Will lifted, with the strength of a Skandian, a tearful retiree onto Tug behind him. He was nursing a scorched arm and kept muttering, "my horse… my horse."

Will couldn't listen, as he had seen the man's horse get hopelessly crushed by a falling tree. He wheeled around to look for Halt.

"Halt!" Abelard and Halt appeared, an unconscious apprentice laying across Abelard's back.

"Will!" Halt yelled. "Go! Take this one!" He gestured to the apprentice on Abelard's back. Will hoisted the limp body on his knees and grabbed the lead ropes of two nearby horses. Then he kicked Tug and they shot away. He looked over his shoulder, trusting Tug to warn him of any other dangers, to view the scene behind him. Rangers lay facedown, cloaks burning, horses broken and mangled on the floor.

Will fought the urge to vomit. "Run, Tug!" He bellowed over the churning wildfire winds. Tug followed the stampede of ragtag horses and riders past the campfire. Two limp figures lay burning next to the podium. Tug ran like never before, fire literally rolling in his eyes. Finally, they were free. The forest opened up into a lakeside meadow. Crowley tried to assemble the grief stricken men to little avail. They called the names of horses, masters, family members, and apprentices. Will slung the apprentice over his shoulder and helped the retiree down. He brought the two men to a part of the delis designated by Crowley as a medical area. Then he saw to the horses.

One was skewbald and the other a blood bay. Tug stood, obedient as ever, by his master's side. The skewbald had sustained minor burns, which Will addressed with his ointment which he kept on his person all the time. The bay was limping because of a large rock lodged in its hoof. Will, having no tools, worked it free with his fingers. He then led the horses to Crowley and yelled, "Whose horses are these?"

A Ranger, ignoring his burns, ran up to the skewbald and hugged its neck lovingly. He thanked Will profusely for saving his horse, then led him away.

Crowley recognized the bay and led him and Will over to the medical section. The Ranger, unconscious, opened his eyes to the bay's breath in his face. Will helped the Ranger up to a sitting position. The horse lay down under his back and allowed the Ranger to collapse on top of him, relaxed. Will smiled.

Will's expression changed to fear as he thought of Halt. Was he alive? What about Abelard? And Gilan. Will's mind created horrible fantasies and lay on Tug just as the other rider had done.

Just as the fire enveloped the outside of the forest, Abelard's powerful chest appeared, galloping briskly. Halt sat on his rolling back, leading a horse with two riders on top. Will recognized it as Blaze, Gilan's horse. Will's heart soared.

A they got closer, Will recognized the figures on Blaze. The one in front was Gilan, and behind him was the sister of a graduating Ranger. They both looked unharmed, however, the girl was crying, anguished. As they neared, Will rose from Tug and hugged the horses' necks. He did a double take as he saw Halt's face. His stubble had been singed off, leaving him for the first time Will had seen him, clean shaven. In other circumstances Will would have found it quite funny but with the forest in flames all humor had left him.

 **AN: Thanks for reading and please review.**


	6. Chapter 5

**AN: Here is chapter 5. We hope you platypi enjoy!**

Chapter Five: Order… Somewhat

Crowley was finally able to call order. He had determined that there were nineteen injured Rangers, ten fit for duty and forty-five missing or dead. Will recoiled when he heard the statistic. Forty-five Rangers missing or dead! He could have sworn he had seen more escaping… The Rangers lowered their heads in sorrow, shadows flickering from the roaring flames.

What would they do? What could they do? With more than half their number gone and only ten of those lucky enough to escape fit for duty, what could they hope to do?

Aya ran up to Will, tears pouring down her face, both from the smoke and from her misery. While riding behind Gilan, Aya had seen her parents' burning bodies. Her parents had been some of the first victims of the blaze. She coughed violently, finally pulling herself together.

"There were," she gasped, "men in the forest! They were attacking..."

Will set her down on the ground and gave her some water from his water skin.

"Relax, it's alright. You're safe." Will said as comforting as he could.

"No!" She bellowed. "There were men!"

"Relax, quiet down now, you're delusional. I know, it's been so terrible. But you're safe now. Relax." Will tried to say.

The girl screamed, "THERE WERE MEN!" This time, she attracted the attention of several Rangers, who bustled over to tend to her minor burns. Crowley tried to ask her questions, but she kept struggling and screaming.

Halt sidled over to Will. "She's in shock, she's delusional. No one could have survived that blaze." Halt said. "Don't worry about it, Will."

Will spent the night watching the forest fire burn itself out. The night that would have been cold was warmed by the flames that ripped through the forest. He sat next to Halt in silence not sure what to say. The air was thick with smoke even though they were far away from the fire. By the time it was dawn the fire was down to embers and what used to be the forest was left as a black charred mess. Where grass used to grow there was merely grey ash and only a few skeletons of trees remained burned black against the rising sun.

The Rangers that were not injured slowly stumbled to their feet in a shocked silence when the sun started to rise and Crowley began to organize search parties. If Aya's claim was to be proven true and any other Rangers found they would have to investigate the forest, or the crumbling ashes that was left of it. Will tailed after Halt looking around for anything that might be of use. He kicked over a cooking pot that was scattered on the ground, then ran lightly to catch up to Halt.

Halt and Will tracked the hoofsteps to the campfire's remains. It was very difficult to track, as ash covered the ground like dust on an old scroll. However, Halt and Will were master trackers.

The duo found fifteen sets of knives and their respective charred skeletons, as well as a multitude of charred horse bodies. Will was close to tears; many of these people had been his friends.

After forty more minutes of searching with no results, Halt turned back. Will looked dejected, head down. They walked back along the trail to their makeshift camp. Will yelped as he banged his head on a charred overhanging branch. Halt looked over, shocked.

"Will." Halt said. "Look up." And stuck in between the branch and tree was a dagger. Not Ranger of origin, not even from Araluen. The dagger was crooked, long, and with little luster. As Halt yanked it out of the tree, he felt the blade. It was weak, pliable, and full of imperfections. Halt raised his eyebrow as he looked at Will.

"Gallica." Will said.

 **AN: Thanks for reading! We hope you'll leave reviews if you have any questions or comments. We hope we've left you in suspense!**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Here is chapter 6. We don't own Ranger's Apprentice. Enjoy!**

Chapter Six: Splitting Off

They found footstep imprints leading perpendicular to the trail. They were tough, leather soles with thick heels as opposed to the soft Ranger boots, perfect for sneaking around unheard. They followed it for a few more meters, then the footsteps intersected with a Ranger's soft-soled footsteps in a jumble of tracks.

Following the tracks avidly, they saw more deep heel prints encircle the Ranger's steps. Then the Ranger's steps stopped.

Will dug in the ashes until he found what he was looking for. A waxed bowstring, protected from the heat by layers of soot, rose from the dust.

Without any words, the pair continued. Halt then asked Will a question.

"Do you notice anything different?" Will thought for a minute and answered.

"Yes, Halt. One of the attackers' footprints are deeper. He must've been carrying the Ranger."

"Good job, Will." He responded. The duo continued with no change in the footsteps until close to the edge of the forest. There, several converged. Halt cursed.

"There must be a hundred Gallicans roaming free here! Aargh! We must inform Crowley." The Ranger and his apprentice ran back to their camp.

Crowley sighed after their report. "Fifteen Rangers known dead. Thirty lost or captured by a hundred Gallicans. Nineteen Rangers injured. Over fifty horses killed. Ten Rangers fit for duty. What are we going to do?"

Halt, Will, Gilan, Alun, Henry, Norris, Andross, Skinner, and Geldon looked up at him cluelessly. Geldon started off, "Let's start with the basics. They have our men, and we need them back. I say we ride out after them and get our men back. Then we can work on rebuilding."

Skinner, one of the younger Rangers, chimed in. "But before we jump to conclusions we need to know the motive."

"True, Skinner," Andross said. "Why would the Gallicans want to attack Araluen?"

Halt roughly interrupted, "because that's what Gallicans do! Their government is in shambles, they're suffering from famine, in great financial debt, and they're closest neighbors are us! We happen to be one of the better-off countries in this world, and we're right on their doorstep. The rest should be obvious. The Rangers are the greatest threat to invasion forces.

Crowley broke the ensuing silence. "I see what you mean, Halt. Andross, Henry, I want you to ride to Castle Araluen, as fast as you can. Tell King Duncan our situation and be sure to emphasize to him that this could mean impeding war."

Alun, Norris, Geldon, and myself will make for Castle Araluen with the injured. Gilan, Skinner, you stay here and search for any horses or Rangers that may have escaped the fire through a different exit. Halt, you go with Will and track the Gallicans. For Araluen!"

After the meeting there was a bustle of activity. Andross and Henry mounted their horses and left promptly. Halt, Gilan, Will, and Skinner helped Alun, Crowley, Geldon, and Norris settle the injured Rangers onto what horses they could find and then watched them walk into the distance. Gilan and Skinner mounted their ponies and departed to search for any lost Rangers or horses. That left Will, Halt, Abelard, and Tug alone at the campsite.

Will used a blackened tree stump to help himself onto Tug then caught up to Abelard and Halt, who had started in the direction of the tracks. At an unspoken command from Halt, Will urged Tug to a canter. Will leaned over Tug's neck and asked him, "How are you feeling?"

Tug tossed his head in response. _More than fifty of my friends have been killed by some stupid Gallicans. How do you think I feel?_

"I'm sorry, Tug," Will whispered, twirling a strand of his mane in his finger. "Tragedy is hard. I have no idea how Halt does it. He doesn't even blink an eye at losing most of his friends."

Tug vibrated beneath him. Will could feel Tug's body motions much better on bareback, though it did induce bruising on his backside. Will looked back up and unslung his bow from his shoulder. He, like the other Rangers, was in possession of his bow and weapon belt during the fire. Will nestled the bow so one tip rested on his left boot and the other in his hand.

Will and Halt travelled until noon, when they foraged for berries and nuts to eat. The forests here were lush and fruitful; bushes of edible berries flourished with a frenzy. Soon they had collected enough for a small lunch. They led their horses into the underbrush and ate their meal.

While they ate, Halt cleared a spot on the ground and drew a map. "This is where we are now." He pointed to a spot on a line. Further down the line was a fork. "This is where we may have to split up, see. Since it is such a large force, they would probably separate to move faster." At Will's raised eyebrow, Halt elaborated, "the trail meets up again in a few kilometers."

Will frowned. "I see."

"You seem hesitant." Halt implied. Will bit his lip.

"A bit." Will admitted.

"What's going on?" Halt asked, with more urgency.

"It's just so much, Halt. All the death… all the chaos. And now you tell me to do something by myself, without your guiding hand, which could get me killed if I make so much as a wrong step. I may have to face Fifty Gallican mercenaries on my own…"

Tug snorted.

"Oh, well. I've got you, Tug." Will said. Tug bounced his head approvingly. Will looked at his instructor in the eyes as well as he could, given the Ranger's cowl was up. Halt, I just don't feel ready for all this."

Under his cowl, Halt's gaze softened. He was so touched and proud of his apprentice. Halt lowered his cowl and took Will by the shoulders. "Will. I know what score Alun was going to give you. I talked to him myself. Actually, he came to see me about it. Will, you are going to be the best Ranger there ever will be one day soon. Trust yourself. Trust your training. Trust your cloak. If you do this you will succeed."

Will gulped and wheezed. "Oh, Halt." Will fell forward to hug the old Ranger, who reciprocated his actions, albeit awkwardly. After a minute they separated and Halt gruffly said, "Alright. That's enough ego-stroking. Let's hit the road."

The duo rode a few kilometers to the fork. As Halt had suspected, the party of Gallicans had halved to move faster. Will took the left fork and Halt the right. Tug ran through the trees briskly, ears perked.

A few hours later, Tug tossed his head. _I hear them._ Will patted Tug on the shoulder and pulled off the trail to the right. "Stay here," Will whispered.

Will inched his way through the dense underbrush silently. The dusky sky darkened even more as Will put one foot on a safe spot then moved forward.

Finally, Will arrived at the newly-created clearing. Tree chips littered the ground between stumps of old giants. A sizable campfire was positioned slightly to the side of the trail, burning the cut wood. Fifty men sat on tree trunks, hammocks, or the ground, eating dried meat and drinking… Ranger coffee! Yes… it had to be. The aroma was distinctly tantalizing to Will's nostrils. _Ah, the vile men,_ Will thought. _It was one thing to kill a man, but to deprive him of his coffee? Now_ that _was true evil._

There were around fifteen Rangers held captive in the center of the camp, necks firmly secured in iron chains. Will backed up a few meters from the clearing line and climbed up a nearby elm and found a good vantage point. Here, he could shoot down at a low angle into the area the Rangers were chained. Will nocked the arrow, pulling it back to half, then full draw. He sighted the shot, then released the straining arrow.

It was a perfect shot, a ten in Alun's terms. It descended to the ground in a small circle formed by the Rangers' shackled bodies.

The Ranger-to-be Martin noticed the arrow first. "Fellows, look here, but make not a sound." The Rangers looked casually and whispered to the next person's ear what had transpired. "'Tis a Ranger arrow." Martin said. "They are here!"

"Don't get too excited, Martin," Another Ranger said. "It's only one arrow. If a decent-sized force of Rangers was here, they would have attacked by now."

"True," Martin responded. "But we do know that if the Gallicans try to hurt us, we will be protected."

Up in the trees, Will smiled as the Rangers buried the arrow in the ground where the Gallicans couldn't find it. Will slipped out of the tree and walked back to Tug. Once Tug was in sight, Will's ears alerted him to the sound of advancing hoofbeats. Will climbed into a bush and waited for the rider to come into view.

The cantering hoofbeats became clear as glass as the horse rounded the hill. Will's eyes strained to view the identity of the rider. It was a female, clad in a brown tunic and black leggings. Her horse was not elegant; it was a draft horse meant for farm work. The girl riding did not ride sidesaddle, a curious thing. She had waist-length brown hair and several knives tucked into her belt. _Are those Ranger knives?_ Will thought.

In a flash, Will leapt out of the bushes and yelled, "Hail, Aya."

Aya yanked on the reins and her horse slowed. "You're a Ranger!" She exclaimed. "Have you seen my brother, Martin? I lost him during the fire and heard several Rangers were captured!"

"Not now," Will said, taking the horse's bridle and leading it over to the bushes. "Listen. You must go back along the trail to the campsite. Rangers Gilan and Skinner are in the area; they will find you."

"I am not about to leave without my brother and you can't make me go anyway." Aya took out a hunting knife and spun it effortlessly.

Will bit his lip. Would he let Aya stay and get in the way or somehow force her to leave? Aya looked good with a blade, and her sharp grey eyes shone with unmatched determination. Will contracted into a figurative tortoiseshell in her powerful, demanding presence, knowing that that was one of his greatest flaws. Will would have to work on that with Halt.

"Alright," he admitted, hating his weakness.

"Will, my parents died in that fire. My brother is my only hope." Aya added.

Will helped her dismount and tie up her horse, which she had kept in a nearby inn. As night overtook them, Will fell asleep near Tug, relying on his senses to warn him of danger.

 **A/N: We hope you liked it! Please review!**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: A Complication

The next morning, after another breakfast of berries and nuts, Aya and Will took off on the road. As to not ride too fast and catch up to the Gallicans, they followed at a walk a kilometer behind.

After an unhurried midday meal, they continued on the path, exchanging stories to pass the time. Will quite enjoyed having someone around his age to talk to, as much as Halt would say it was distracting. Aya proved not just to be good-looking and fit, but had an intellect Will admired. Will had a good time discussing advances in agricultural fields and was so distracted he almost missed something vital.

Will's head snapped up and he grabbed the draft's reins, pulling them both sharply to the right. "Aargh!" He yelled.

Aya looked bewildered but urged her horse to follow the young Ranger. The horses plunged into the underbrush.

Aya tied up her horse then followed Will, who had army-crawled to a break in the branches. Aya first saw that they were at the fork of the road, then followed Will's gaze. His face was upturned so he could have a clear view of the crumbling tower looming above them.

During one long-forgotten age, the tower may have been a great defensive structure, but until recently it was regarded as derelict and useless. Despite the crumbling state, the tower was all the Gallicans needed; a place to hold out until the main force arrived. That would be in a few weeks, a time they might as well spend in the comfort and protection of an ancient tower. And thusly, cracks were boarded, supplies gathered, and water barrels rolled from the nearby lake.

Guards were set around the perimeter, approximately five meters apart. Patrols were stationed on top of the tower, protected from arrow fire by the somewhat-intact crenellations. They haughtily stalked the walls, occasionally spitting over the edge.

Will turned to Aya and said, "this is worse than I thought. The Rangers must be being kept in the dungeon, and they outnumber us by far. While we wait for Halt, we need to formulate a plan."

Aya frowned. This was no easy fix. If they were to climb, they could be easily dispatched. The same result would come from a frontal assault. Aya mentioned his thoughts to Will, who agreed. They discussed different methods of attack as the sun began to tilt back over the horizon.

A few hours later, Will and Aya became alert to the sound of hoofbeats. It was one horse, at a gallop and nearing quickly. Coming from the same road upon which Will and Aya traveled, the speeding horseman yelled and whipped his horse to greater speeds. The rider's face was red and angry, scowling at his horse's supposed incompetence. They hurtled past Will and Aya's hiding place, hurrying for the entrance of the tower. Will looked after the horse, mind working in a frenzy.

A hundred meters away, Serge Mathieu, the Gallican commander, leaned back on the makeshift chair his men had made him. He inhaled a puff of smoke from his pipe, then blew it out. Smoke clouded the crumbling room on the bottom floor. He chose this room out of the many others because it was close to the door and the entrance to the dungeons. Mathieu smiled darkly as he thought of the Rangers. He fingered his cat-o-nine tucked into his belt and grinned, remembering his earlier visit to the dungeon.

Outside his room, which had no door, a guard helped the red-faced man off his horse. The guard cleared his throat and, in the Gallican tongue, announced, "Sir, a rider is here. He bears the arms of Lord Pierre."

"Let him in," Mathieu responded in his brutish voice.

The rider bowed his head in respect and handed Mathieu a note with an official seal. "You may leave." Mathieu grunted.

Mathieu broke the seal and read the note. He grinned an evil, lack-toothed smile and called for his second-in-command. The first officer arrived, and Mathieu explained the situation.

"I have just reviewed word that eight of Lord Pierre's men will be sailing into the Araluen harbor on the Semath River three weeks from now. Two other ships will pick us and the Rangers up in around one week."

"This is great news, milord." His officer said.

"Yes, indeed." Mathieu agreed. "We will hold Castle Araluen in a siege until the foul king himself begs us for mercy. Then we will rid him of his money, using the Rangers as ransom."

"An excellent plan, milord." Mathieu leaned back in his chair, setting the note next to a long scroll on his crude desk.

"Dismissed." Mathieu said. Mathieu relaxed in his chair for a few minutes, then remembered what he was going to do before he was interrupted. He left the room, viewing for a second the large barred door and ladder which the men had built, then descended down the trapdoor into the dungeon.

The dungeon, a foul-smelling subterranean prison, held thirty Rangers by their wrists. They had been stripped of their magic cloaks, belts, and tunics, leaving their backs exposed. Some sported stinging marks on their backs and suffered from malnutrition; the Gallicans hadn't seen fit to feed them.

Mathieu strode along the line of beaten men, taunting and jeering at them. He flashed his cat-o-nine at the Rangers, beating them excessively. He heard their cries of pain but that wasn't enough for him. He singled out the youngest Ranger and lashed his fearsome whip over and over again on the young man's back, unrelenting. He stepped back after minutes of repeated whacking and watched even more angry welts form on his back. The other Rangers pleaded with Mathieu to stop, to relent, but Mathieu was enjoying it so much he did not heed their cries. He listened to the sound of the Ranger's sobbing as he ascended the stone spiral staircase many minutes later.

 **AN: Like it? Hate it? Tell us all about it and hit the review button. It helps us a lot!**


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Battle Plans

Will and Aya lay awake, listening to the awful screams that rent the otherwise silent night. "That's my brother's voice. I'd recognize it anywhere." She said, voice breaking. Will gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, feeling horrible for her.

They scratched a message in the ground should Halt be looking for them, then mounted up and sneakily inched parallel to the trail through the bushes. They continued like this until the tower was out of sight, then crossed the road and vanished into the forest on the other side. They crept slowly through the underbrush, task for the night complete. They untacked Aya's farm horse and lay down to sleep, trying to ignore the horrible shrieks emanating from the dungeon.

As the sun broke the horizon like an eggshell on a bowl, Will stood up and began his scanning of the tower wall for weaknesses. Aya groggily became conscious, browsing through the underbrush for things to eat. She then led the horses to a nearby stream which fed into the lake, then let them loose to graze. She knew Tug would keep her horse close.

Will saw at first that the tower had more structural instabilities in this side, as well as deeper cracks, if he was forced to climb. Will was an excellent climber, but was still prone to being seen against a stark wall. Plus, still had nightmares of when Master Chubb caught him stealing cakes and forced scalding soup down his throat, and was in no rush to encounter boiling liquids being hurled at him from above.

Will also began to worry about Halt. He should have been here by now, if he was following the other group anywhere near closely. Horrible images filled Will's mind; those of Halt being captured by the Gallicans, lying injured somewhere on the road, or lying there _dead._ Will shook himself to rid the images from his mind. It would do him no good to worry.

Aya and Will speculated all day about the ways they might attack. It was as fruitless as the dead tree in the courtyard of Castle Redmont Baron Arald would not believe was dead. He insisted that his servant watered it every day, regardless of its continuing fruitlessness.

The screams picked up again at dinnertime, causing Will to lose his normally expansive appetite. They were undoubtedly the screams of the same man, Aya's brother, Martin. Will had met Martin before, at the last Gathering. He had liked the solemn, concentrated apprentice, and was very empathetic to what he must be going though. When Will listened closely, he could hear the _whoosh_ of the whip before a bout of shrill screams.

Will felt terrible as they laid down to sleep. They were nowhere closer to saving the Rangers and Will knew it. After tossing and turning on the ground for an hour, Will gave up trying to sleep and sulked back over to the edge of the forest to stare at the unrelentingly blank tower. _What was that?_

Will rubbed his eyes to reawaken himself fully. He looked back over to the spot he had found earlier and couldn't believe his eyes. In between two gruff guards, a bush grew, and behind that bush, Will became aware of a light. Flickering, uncertain, but a light nonetheless. The light gained a meter in height, then moved out of sight. Will saw a flicker of the light twice more, moving right on the same level.

This was great news for Will. He knew now that there was a large crack on ground level, one boarded from the inside. That would be easy to kick down. Now, the only problem was getting past the guards.

"You want me to _what_?" Aya asked, accusingly.

"I just want you to cause a distraction on the opposite side of the ramparts to distract them while I sneak over." Will responded.

"And let you have all the fun? Absolutely not." Aya said, crossing her arms. However, this time Will was prepared for her back talk.

"Aya, it's not going to work if you don't do this, and if you don't come through, your brother and all the Rangers will stay captured and the Gallicans will go through with whatever horrid plan they have."

The truth of his words stung her like a bee. She scowled, but agreed.

"What type of distraction?" She asked.

"Whatever comes to mind. Doesn't have to be too elaborate. Feel free to shout and throw some rocks if you want but make sure to get away fast. Leave your horse nearby so you can easily escape. By the way, we'll attack at sunset." Will responded.

"Alright. I'll get to work." Aya said.

 **AN: Thanks for reading! Please review! Only two chapters left to this story!**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Breaking In

When the sun greeted the horizon after the evening meal, Will looked one final time for Halt. He was not there, and neither was Aya. She had gone to the other side of the tower, with her horse, to mount the distraction. At a sound of alarm and rushing movement from the guards, Will shouldered the pack of sticks he had whittled and crawled down the slight slope towards the bush. He had no trouble sneaking past the guards, who were all conversing with the next closest guardsmen, and into the bush.

Will could see the candle he had spotted earlier sitting abandoned next to a note on a chair through one of the large cracks in the planks. After verifying the room was empty, Will inserted his saxe into the gap and levered the planks off.

He leapt forward into the room, knife brandished. He moved to the desk first, reading the title of the scroll. Will gasped quietly. "How did they get the Gathering papers?" He also scooped up the rider's note, tucking it into his pocket for he knew little Gallican.

Will then moved to the doorway, sensing the breath of a guard. Will smashed the man on his skull with the pommel of his saxe as he entered the main room. He grabbed the man's mace and sheathed his own knife. He noticed something on the fallen guard's belt that made his lip curl. It was a Ranger knife.

"That's not yours." He said, picking it up and sheathing it into his own belt. Fortunately, the room was empty due to the commotion occurring outside. Will wondered what cacophony was happening outside to cause the guards such confusion.

Will located the trapdoor stairway down and knocked the guard there with the mace. He ran down the steps like a gymnast at a fair. "Rangers!" Will whispered harshly. "It is I, Will. Let me get you out."

The Rangers cheered quietly as Will approached the left side of the line and drew his knife, discarding the mace. He hacked at the hard leather cuffs until he got the hand of one man free. He did the same for the other wrist, then gave the Ranger a throwing knife.

"Use this to free the others." The Ranger nodded, then went to work on the one next to him. They worked together to free the next one, giving him a knife and then on. There were keyholes, but Will wasn't sure where the key might be found. He had noted the hard leather cuffs from earlier and thought he would be able to cut through them.

Soon, they were all free. Will distributed the guards' weapons and sharpened sticks he had whittled, then charged up the stairs into the entrance room.

The Rangers wielded the sticks with the ferocity of caged animals. They gored and stabbed at their captors, destroying their enemies left and right. Will stepped into a duel with a guard, easily dispatching him with a blow to the head with the butt end of his knife. Will's eyes strayed to Aya, fighting alongside Martin with her knifes.

Now the Rangers had taken the first floor and replaced their sticks with swords, maces, daggers, and some spears. They used these spears now to point outward so that Rangers could climb the ladder up to the second floor without being smote from behind. Five of the better-equipped Rangers made it to the second floor, slashing gracefully and clearing the way for more Rangers to climb up. Will prepared to climb when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Halt!" Will exclaimed. "What happened?"

"Abelard threw a shoe, and the local farrier was very obstinate." Halt said as he climbed up. Will followed him.

"I bet you had fun with him!" Will smiled, as he knocked out a soldier with his strikers.

"You bet I did. I didn't throw him into a moat this time, though I probably would have if there was one nearby." Halt said as he sent a man sprawling with a well-placed kick. Soon the second floor was cleared, and then the third as well. Now all that remained was the battlements.

Halt and Will led the fight for the top, concussing the last of the men. Finally, only one man remained. He was prettily dressed, unlike the utilitarian soldiers, and wore a ruff of lace and an outrageous hat that needed a chinstrap just to keep it on. _Gallicans and their fashion_ , Halt thought. Mathieu, eyes wide with fright, backed into a crenellation, murmuring useless pleadings.

"You're coming with us." Will barked.

"I would rather die than be captured by Araluen dogs!" The commander yelled, finding his nerve.

"That's pretty high and mighty coming from someone in your position," Halt said. Without warning, Mathieu kicked his legs and fell off the crenellations feet first. He only fell half a meter before he stopped in midair, Halt's death grip fastened on the fancy white ruff on his neck.

"Nice try." He said as he pulled him back up, none too gently.

 **AN: Please feel free to comment on how we're portraying Flanagan's characters. Only one chapter left!**


	11. Chapter 10 and Epilogue

Chapter Ten: Loose Ends

In the nearest manned castle, Will sent a message pigeon to Castle Araluen warning them of the approaching fleet of Gallican ships. He had Halt decipher the Gallican message and had no doubt the Gallicans could be easily fended off. He walked down the stairsfrom the pigeon hold to the stables, where Tug was enjoying a warm and dry stall with plenty of oats and hay to eat.

Tug tossed his head at Will's arrival, happy Will came to see him. Will brushed Tug's shaggy coat until it shined, then looked at some new tack for Tug. His normal saddle had been decimated by the fire. The first saddle was too small, but the bridle was the right size. Will hung the bridle on the hook inside the stall, then looked for another saddle.

The Horsemaster was happy to help Will find new tack, and complimented Tug on his shiny coat, a thing that pleased Tug immensely. Tug was still facing the tragedy of losing his horse friends, so Will was glad Tug seemed to be recovering. Will made a mental note to give Tug and Abelard more of their favorite foods to cheer them up.

The Horsemaster and Will eventually found a nice saddle which both horse and man liked, so Will thanked the Horsemaster and took his leave.

Halt was in the quarters given to him temporarily, poring over the maps he had found in the castle's library about the eastern lands. Will knocked, then entered, going to sit in a chair in front of Halt's desk.

"What are you looking at?" Will asked.

"Nothing of your concern." Halt responded as he shuffled the papers away. "I should mention… I'll be going away for a couple of weeks. It's your job to hold Redmont together until I get back."

"Yes, Halt, but may I ask-"

"No." Halt responded. "I will depart tomorrow and escort some of the Rangers back to their Fiefs. You will do the same with the Rangers with Fiefs near Redmont."

"Yes, Halt." Will said submissively. Halt added one last thing.

"You will also escort Crowley to Old Bob's stables. He will be working there from now on."

Will smiled. It would be great to have another Ranger in the Fief, even if he was retired and working as a barn hand. Will left Halt's quarters a few minutes later, unlocking his own and stepping inside.

He checked to make sure he had all his weapons, including his longbow, and went about replacing the arrow he had split at the Gathering. He looked out the window and took a moment to look very accomplished, savoring every second. He had learned a lot about himself the past few days.

A knock on his door awoke him from his midday slumber. It was Aya, dressed in a dark-colored dress.

"Come in, Aya," Will said. They sat on the carved stone benches inside the window.

"Thank you so much for helping save Martin. If we hadn't done what we did, I would be sentenced to a life of poverty and misery. Fortunately," Aya said, "the Rangers put in a good name for me up at the castle and the Craftmasters had a hearing for my apprenticeship."

"That's wonderful, Aya." Will said, genuinely happy he could help. "What will it be?"

"I'm going to train at Horseschool with the Horsemaster. I'm going to care for and help train Araluen's battlehorses. The Horsemaster saw it fitting because of my previous experiences with horses and livestock." Aya responded.

"I met the Horsemaster," Will said thoughtfully. "He was a nice man. You should enjoy working under him."

They continued their mild conversation until the sun set. Will led Aya to the door. Will inwardly grimaced; he hated goodbyes.

"Well," he said awkwardly. Aya sensed his tenseness and set her palm on his shoulder.

"Will, after the next Gathering, d'you think you could stop by?" Aya asked.

"I'll make it a priority." Will responded. Aya smiled and slid her hand down his arm to squeeze his hand. Then, she turned and she walked down the hallway. Will turned back to his room and slept like a hibernating mouse until well after the rays of dawn.

He and the Rangers headed in the direction of Redmont mounted up at noon, well-rested with saddlebags packed with supplies.

The next week, the Rangers branched off to their separate Fiefs, leaving Will and Tug alone. He rode into Redmont, amazed with the views of the rolling hills and dancing rivers. As he rounded the crest to Castle Redmont, Will was shocked by the beauty of Redmont's defensive ironstone walls that captured his attention every time he passed. Tug galloped down the final hill, tossing his head in cheerfulness.

Arriving at his home, Will dismounted, unlocking the Ranger cabin and spreading fresh hay out for Tug to rest on. He heated a pot of coffee and relaxed on one of the many chairs. He then washed and threw himself onto his bed, glad he could finally relax.

As he drifted to sleep, he thought of his schedule for the next day. He would ride Tug to the castle, then address the Royal Mail that had piled up during his and Halt's absence. A few minutes later, sleep claimed him and led him to the lands of fantastical creations and endless possibilities.

Epilogue: Horse Rustling

Halt stood in the long grass, letting the shadows of the waving stalks conceal him. It was nighttime and the moon was good; nearly full, with hardly a cloud in sight. The Temujai camp was lit well enough for him to navigate by sight.

He'd snuck past the perimeter guard with greater ease than he expected. There had been a feast that evening and they were badly drunk on fermented mare's milk, so they paid no mind to a slight rustling in the grasses.

Now, he was outside the rope paddock that held this clan's breeding stock. Twenty short, shaggy horses, bred for endurance and trained for war. Some slept on the ground, but most dozed standing up, ready to fight or flee at a moment's notice. And a few stayed awake, keeping watch. They would notice his approach and could sound the alarm.

Squatting in the grass, Halt pondered his escape. Sneaking away from a Temujai camp with twenty-odd horses would be difficult, to say the least.

The four stallions each wore a halter, but the mares and yearlings didn't. Halt considered roping them all in a line; unfortunately, if he did that, even one slow horse could ruin the escape. He would have to convince them all to move along quickly.

Abelard was browsing nearby, looking entirely unremarkable among the Temujai's diminutive steeds. Halt could see him grazing between two yurts, his breath frosting in the cold air. This was where Abelard's parents were from. This gave Halt an idea.

The horses were packed in tightly, and any attempt to steal one would arouse them all. They wouldn't want to run away quietly with a stranger, but maybe they would follow one of their own.

"Abelard, _viens ici_." Halt called softly. The horse lifted his head and moved over to the Ranger, alert despite the late hour. Halt pulled some cord from his saddlebags and began tying rough halters along it. After the seventh halter, he ran out of rope; swearing softly, he tightened his knots. He would have to make do with that. There wasn't anything he could do now but try his plan.

He crept up to the paddock, Abelard in tow. The horses snorted at his approach, but the Ranger moved in softly, and none of them whinnied to raise the alarm.

Halt waited for a moment, letting Abelard greet the nervous horses. His calm demeanor would comfort the Temujai steeds, keeping them quiet and calm. It would make Halt's job far easier.

Halt slipped beneath the rope paddock and approached the matriarch of the herd. (He guessed that she was the matriarch; he hadn't had much time to study the herd dynamic.) With a soft word and a pat on the nose, he slipped the front halter over her head. She nickered, but didn't shy away.

A filly stood by her; Halt was counting on the youngsters to follow their parents. He roped on six more mares that he liked the look of, and put the stallions with halters on the tail of the rope, with the biggest one in the back. Hopefully, they would nip the heels of any horses that slowed down and thus would keep the herd moving at a good clip.

He was about to leave when an idea struck him. He crept inside the nearest yurt, which was clearly designated for feed and tack. Being so, it was deserted. There was a quill, an inkwell and several sheets of parchment on a small collapsible table; most were marked with numbers in the Temujai script.

Halt placed a bag full of gold coins onto the table; it was more than he had paid for the breeding stock last time. He dipped the quill in the inkwell, flipped over a piece of paper, and wrote a note to the Temujai he had stolen from: _Sorry_.

Hurrying from the yurt, he took the front of the rope and swung onto Abelard, then set off at a cautious walk. The Temujai matriarch dug in her heels, but a whicker from Abelard convinced her that it was safe to continue. When she moved, the rest of the herd followed. Even the mares and yearlings that Halt hadn't roped in followed the herd; that was an unexpected bonus. They went slowly, so as to not wake the Temujai.

The moon was sinking and the camp would be awake soon. Halt wouldn't feel comfortable until he was ten kilometers away from the camp. So once he was out of earshot, he brought the herd up to a steady canter. Soon they had a sizable lead on the Temujai, who would be waking up hungover and disorganized.

The coast wasn't far away, as the Temujai were raiding and had left their home country. Halt knew he had enough money to charter passage home with his newly acquired livestock. He got there after two days of driving the horses, arriving at the port sweaty and exhausted.

Halt rode up to the biggest ship he saw, which flew the flag of Araluen. Twenty shaggy Temujai ponies clopped up the packed-dirt street behind him. They had built a bond in the past few days, and now they wouldn't run away from Halt and Abelard.

Halt arrived at the docking planks, where men were loading barrels. A bewildered ship's captain climbed abovedecks and stared at him incredulously.

"King's Ranger," Halt said wearily, flashing his silver oakleaf. "Passage for one man and twenty-one horses."

The captain gaped.

 **AN: Thanks for staying with us to the end of our first group fanfiction! Please review, we'd love to hear from you. And, if you're a fan of Redwall, by Brian Jacques, feel free to check out our story, "The King of the Urthworms."**


End file.
